The Bora-Bora Dress, by Carole Lexa Schaefer, illustrated by Catherine Stock ("'Lindsay never ever ever' wears a dress, but her fabulous Aunt Fiona is having an 'end-of-the-summer, snazzy, ritzy dress-up party' in an enormous hedge maze with moonlight dancing on the beach, and Mama (chic, even in her bathrobe) says a dress is de rigueur.")

A Dangerous Engine: Benjamin Franklin, From Scientist to Diplomat, by Joan Dash, illustrated by Dusan Petricic ("Any author would have trouble cramming Franklin's long and overstuffed life into a single volume. Dash does so with the briskness of an impassioned teacher who has little patience for classroom goof-offs. There is no condescension here — you kids will have to pay attention as you work your way through the science parts, the Revolutionary War parts, and especially the French-diplomacy-and-intrigue parts. But the rewards will be great.")

Now and Then: The Modern Inventions of Benjamin Franklin, by Gene Barretta ("It does not bother with its subject's life and times. It has enough to do simply presenting — with charming illustrations — the innovations, oddities and civilizational necessities that kept fizzing and popping from Franklin's restless brain.")

Ward writes, "What, exactly, are they meant to take away from this tale, with its hammer blows of random brutality, its weirdly malevolent adults (Pellegrina is by no means the only one) and its endless moralizing about love? The last is particularly baffling. What child needs to be reminded to love? Why, in any case, demonize a child's natural self-involvement, which is all that's 'wrong' with Edward?"

I've really been struggling with this issue myself. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane is a beautifully written novel. DiCamillo's prose is sparse and elegant and Bagram Ibatoulline's illustrations are gorgeous. But, there is something cruel, something unfair to Edward (who, after all, is only a china rabbit) in the story. Thanks to Ward for saying it!